


That's Not in My Contract

by crispyjenkins



Series: Crispy Writes [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Same Age, Alternate Universe - Siblings, Bodyguard Jango, Childhood Sweethearts, M/M, Prince Obi-Wan Kenobi, Stewjon regularly hires mandos as bodyguards, Stewjoni Culture and Language, Stewjoni is Space Ireland in a cruel plot twist from hell, Wholesome JangObi for your Tuesday, mild canon-typical violence, slams fists on table MANDO NIELD MANDO NIELD MANDO NIELD, they're somewhere around 30 here i don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26713054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crispyjenkins/pseuds/crispyjenkins
Summary: He winces, but still tries to charm his twin with a smile. “This time it really wasn’t my fault, ‘Rasi: Gardulla has been planning this for years.”“Mhm,” she pretends to humor him, before turning a raised brow to Jango. “And you, you were supposed to keep him out of trouble.”Or: Prince of Stewjon Obi-Wan is the reason Jango is going to go grey at 35.
Relationships: Cerasi & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Cerasi & Obi-Wan Kenobi & Nield, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Crispy Writes [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960120
Comments: 21
Kudos: 628
Collections: Star Wars





	That's Not in My Contract

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ironhoshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironhoshi/gifts).



> **JangObi Ao3:** *congested with dark and possessive and stockholm aus*  
>  **me:**  
>  **me:** anyways here's wholesome JangObi in love 
> 
> Translations:  
>  _A mhuirnín_ — “my dear”, Irish Gaelic (Google is telling me a different spelling than I grew up with so (ノ*゜▽゜*)?? )  
>  _shebs_ — “ass” or “rear end”, Mando’a  
>  _beskar’gam_ — Armour made of beskar, “Mandalorian Iron” that was actually probably a steel alloy  
>  _Ver’alor_ — “lieutenant”, Mando’a, used here as a contract bodyguard.

"Please at least _pretend_ to be concerned about your own safety," Jango begs as they move quickly through the castle halls, and his charge has the gall to laugh at him.

"I surely don't know what you mean, a _mhuirnín_ ," Obi-Wan says lightly, as if they didn't in fact have a mob of pissed-off Gardulla the Hutt supporters and slavers storming the castle as they speak. 

Jango levels him with a glare, and Obi-Wan at the very least winces. "One of these days, I'm not going to be around to stop you mouthing off to the wrong person, and they're going to decapitate you."

"That's hardly fair," Obi-Wan says, letting Jango tug him into a smaller corridor and down a short flight of stairs. "After all, it's not as if you've ever _not_ been there."

"Then you are a fool as well as an idiot."

"I'm not sure how your father would feel knowing you call your employer an idiot."

"Don't you kriffing _dare_ tell Jaster about this, or _I'll_ decapitate you."

Obi-Wan laughs and slips Jango's grip on his wrist to his hand instead. "Another secret between us, then."

“This isn't part of my contract."

Obi-Wan looks up from the blaster rifle he's trying to unjam with the remains of a droid antenna, as Jango pops up and fires his own blaster out the shattered window, releasing a volley of bolts before ducking back down under the sill. 

"Isn't your contract to protect me?" Obi-Wan smiles benignly, jamming the antenna into the rifle's entry chamber until he feels a soft click, and the entire rifle starts to hum as it powers up again. 

"No, my contract is to protect _the entire royal family_ , not just _your_ hyperactive shebs."

He scoffs and scoots along the floor until he's close enough to slip his hand into the front of Jango's jacket and relieve him of a blaster cartridge, Jango angling himself so Obi-Wan has easier access as he shoots another volley out the window. Obi-Wan actually feels sort of bad for whoever owns the house they've barricaded themselves in, when another window shatters under the blasterfire from the slave runners that they hadn’t been able to lose after escaping the castle. He’ll have to find the owner and pay for the damages, whenever they get out of this mess. 

"I'm not hyperactive." Locking in the cartridge, Obi-Wan slams the safety off and twists in place to rock to his feet, crouched as he sets the barrel of his rifle onto the sill. Making sure to keep his head down, he lets the Force gently guide his hands until he has Gardulla's lackeys in his scope. "I simply think it's ludicrous that I have to pretend to tolerate that slimy bastard's even slimier followers." He fires twice, then dips back down to let the rifle cool down; not for the first time, Obi-Wan envies Jango's Westars.

Jango growls. “Where the kriff is Myles?”

With a snort, Obi-Wan takes out two more human slavers. “Probably trying to get into Cerasi’s pants.”

“Please don’t make me imagine your sister’s pants.”

“Weren’t you in love with her when we were ten?”

“Your highness, _please_ focus on the task at hand.”

“Oh, we’re pulling out titles, now? Well then, _trooper_ , the one in the blue hat is their leader, and the rest are probably too stupid to make decisions without them.”

Jango glances down at him, face twisted unhappily, but easily takes out the human with the blue hat; their body jolts and then tips off the roof to hit the stone road in a heap, and the blasterfire abruptly stops. Cowards.

Settling the rifle muzzle at the corner of the sill to make a mental map of the remaining shooters, Obi-Wan feels Jango shift to pull out his comm, before cursing softly in Mando’a. At his raised brow, Jango holds up the comm.

“No kriffing signal. Not just a weak one, it can’t find a connection anywhere.”

“They haven’t had the time to take out the comm towers,” Obi-Wan says, and Jango grunts his agreement. 

“Not since you mouthed off to them in the throne room, no. They must have set something up before their audience with you.”

Which has more implications than Obi-Wan really has the status to do anything about with Cerasi still off-world for another cycle, but something like glee fills his chest. “So I could have said anything to them?” he asks innocently, “They were going to attack no matter what I did?” and Jango drags a hand down his face.

“You’ll be unbearable after this,” he sighs, clipping his comm back onto his vambrace so he can carefully switch to the other side of the window. “How many Twi’lek were there?”

“Three, not including the one you shot in the hangar bay. I count four humans,” Obi-Wan answers, still smiling because he’ll be holding this over Jango for kriffing _weeks_.

“I count five.” Jango checks his blaster cartridge while Obi-Wan quickly finds the last human slaver that he’d missed in the furthest alley. “You have the rooftops?”

“And the fifth, he’s too far for your Westars.”

When Jango had first started coming to Stewjon with Jaster, Obi-Wan wasn’t even allowed to know blasters _existed_ , much less know how to fire one. He still isn’t sure how Jaster had weaseled a teaching contract out of the King on top of the first guard contracts, and Jango knows intimately how far Obi-Wan has come in terms of defending himself, having spectated his lessons with Jaster since Obi-Wan was ten. Even a year younger, Jango could wipe the floor with him then, just by virtue of being the Mand’alor’s foundling.

So the half-smitten look Jango shoots him from across the window has two decades of understanding behind it; even after this long, Obi-Wan flusters under the praise.

“If we didn’t have people to kill, I’d kiss you,” Jango announces, smile set back into a frown, but his eyes glint in amusement.

Obi-Wan brushes up against him in the Force instead, because even though Jango can’t respond, he can still feel it. “There will be time later, _a mhuirnín,”_ Obi-Wan murmurs, just to see his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Cerasi is already in the throne room when they finally make it back to the castle the next morning, looking up from where she stands by the war table and immediately closing her eyes in search of patience. Her personal guard, Nield, straightens at her side and turns quickly to hide his sudden guffaw. 

And Obi-Wan knows they look quite the sight, half-drowned from their escape through the mote with Jango’s helmet conspicuously missing; the sleeved-cloak wrapped around Obi-Wan clearly wasn’t made for him. Soot somehow still smears their faces even after their impromptu swim, and it really doesn’t paint the prettiest picture of their afternoon.

“Brother dear,” Cerasi says, her tone dangerous as Obi-Wan hops forward to plant a quick kiss on her cheek, “I thought I told you you weren’t to start a war with the Hutts while I was gone.”

He winces, but still tries to charm his twin with a smile. “This time it really wasn’t my fault, ‘Rasi: Gardulla has been planning this for years.”

“Mhm,” she pretends to humor him, before turning a raised brow to Jango. “And you, you were supposed to keep him out of trouble.”

“The only way to do that would be to muzzle him,” Jango says, completely serious, and Nield nearly chokes on his tongue.

Obi-Wan sniffs in offense, turning to lean against the table and careless of any buttons he might sit on. “I do wish you’d save such discussions for behind closed doors, love.” 

Jango and Cerasi release a sigh in tandem, that exhausted sort of resignation the only thing his sister and his partner can agree on. 

“You could always tie him down,” Nield offers, voice strangled as his shoulders shake, his humor nearly vibrating him out of his _beskar’gam_. 

“This isn’t part of my contract,” Jango growls — even though any Mando that takes a Stewjoni contract knows that the royal family are almost violently wont to adopt them, if the Mand’alor doesn’t negotiate the terms himself. 

(Although, sometimes they aren’t safe, even then.)

**Author's Note:**

> a prompt fill for an anon on my tumblr @/crispyjenkins! original prompt: "Crown prince of Stewjon obi and Ve[r]’Alor jango childhood sweethearts"


End file.
